03 08AU Human Nature
by NewDrWhoFan
Summary: My take on "Human Nature" with Rose... 10Rose.
1. Out of Time

_The Series 3 AU with Rose continues! This is a sequel to my stories from "The Girl in the Stalking Spaceship", to "Doomsday Averted", all the way through the AU Series 3 up until "42"._

_Dedicated to **bite-me-im-irish **for the forty-second review for "42" (I just couldn't resist), and to **Luna Lovegood5 **for first getting me thinking about an AU "Human Nature" way back when - or, I should say, "Once Upon a Time"._

_Beta'd by **Anjirika**. Thanks so much!_

_Disclaimer: Surprise, surprise, I don't own Doctor Who (or Harry Potter, or Star Trek). Nor do I get anything from writing these stories - except wonderful, constructive reviews! Wink, wink; nudge, nudge ;)_

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Out of Time**

This is actually kind of nice, thought Rose, as she tucked her legs up underneath her on the sofa. She wriggled back into the cushions and repositioned the book on her lap.

This was only the first of several books the TARDIS had recommended for her, but still, Rose was rather proud to be even halfway through it. Temporal physics wasn't easy, even for someone who had traveled with the Doctor for as long as she had.

The traveling was a blessing and a curse. She loved every second of it, but their life didn't leave much time for study. More often than not, Rose slept away their relative time spent drifting in the timelessness of the Vortex - eight hours or so on his own was more than enough time for the Doctor to think up or stumble into another adventure. And although Rose had always been a quick learner, she'd never been a patient student. One glimpse of the Doctor's face with that twinkle in his eye telling her he had someplace wonderful planned, and all thoughts of spare time, and questions, and book learning flew out the proverbial window. It just never seemed like the right time to ask for an explanation of how the TARDIS worked, while in the midst of holding on for dear life or stepping out into a fantastic new world.

So it was that Rose wasn't finding it too difficult to adapt to the Doctor's enforced "taking it easy". The library had lots of comfortable corners, a warm fire in the hearth, and more books on more topics than Rose could ever have imagined. The only thing it was missing was the Doctor himself.

No sooner had she thought this, than Rose heard the Doctor enter the library. She quickly slipped the physics book behind her, replacing it with the fifth _Harry Potter_ book. Opening to a random page, she glanced up at the Doctor to try and see if he had noticed.

It seemed that he hadn't, as he went straight over to the fire without comment. It didn't need any tending, of course, but he appeared to be checking the temperature. For the past day or so, he had been doing his best not to constantly hover around Rose, which is to say he had been hovering but pretending not to. Rose smiled at him over the top of her book, knowing that the self-imposed domestics had to be making him stir-crazy. Still, he was being so sweet...

The Doctor straightened from the hearth, turning to meet Rose's gaze at last. "Comfy?" he asked.

"Fine, thanks," Rose replied. "Just catchin' up on some readin'."

He looked at the book and smiled. "_Order of the Phoenix_. You mean the movie wasn't enough for you?"

"Plenty of time to kill, why not?" Rose asked, innocently.

The Doctor brought an afghan over from an armchair to drape over her shoulders. "So who gave Harry the gillyweed for the underwater challenge?" He asked, just as innocently.

"Wha -" Rose began, then realized he was talking about the last movie - er, book. "Neville," she told him.

"Uh-huh," he said, reaching down behind her back and retrieving the physics book. "Dobby, actually," he said, as Rose twisted around to try and grab the book. "They changed it in the movie... temporal physics?" he asked.

Rose sighed as she sat back against the couch cushions, blushing. So much for his not noticing.

"Rose?" he asked again, coming around to sit beside her.

"Yeah?" she answered.

He glanced to the book, then back at her. "What are you looking for?" he asked, handing over the book.

She took it, not meeting his eyes. "I wasn't lookin' for anythin', just tryin' to learn a little," she admitted. She risked a glance, but Rose couldn't quite read his smile.

He nodded towards the book. "That's a good one," he said. "But you only had to ask," he added.

She bit her lip before replying. "Well, yeah, but when I did, you just gave me enough to get by," she told him. "Flyin' the TARDIS is just 'push this button here' or 'turn that dial three quarters clockwise'. I wanna know why an' how an' all that."

He was positively beaming at her, now, and even though Rose half-expected some sort of condescending comment at any moment, she felt herself smiling back at him.

Fortunately, instead of patting the little human on the head, like she had feared, the Doctor slid in closer, pulling her next to him with an arm around her shoulders.

"In that case," he began with a grin, "do you feel up to another lesson?"

She looked at him. "TARDIS drivin'?" she asked, hopefully.

He nodded. "And we'll take it as slowly as we can without careening too wildly off course, and you can ask as many questions as you can think of."

"Sounds nice," she answered, smiling right back at him and wondering now why she hadn't just asked before. "And do we get to go outside when we get whenever we're goin'?" Here she was, getting swept away again at just the thought of something new. No wonder she'd never bothered with A-levels.

"I love it when you talk fourth-dimensionally," the Doctor told her with a sitting, one-armed hug. Then he was on his feet, holding out his hand to her. "Allons-y!"

* * *

Although the Doctor had still done most of the work in piloting the TARDIS, for the first time Rose felt like more than just an extra set of hands. At one point, he had even asked her opinion about which path to take.

True, the Doctor had needed to jump in at the last minute when they had hit a "bump" as he put it, but for the most part, it had been smooth sailing. They even landed smoothly, which surprised them both.

As they headed down the ramp, Rose got another surprise. Instead of picking up his overcoat, the Doctor shed his suit jacket and tossed it aside over the railing. "Is it really that hot?" Rose asked.

"It's not the heat, so much as the humidity," the Doctor told her, then opened the TARDIS' doors, proving his point at once.

* * *

The Doctor took Rose's hand, eager to look around. It wasn't every day when treating her to the marvels of the universe that he got to show off the results of his own handiwork. "Welcome to fifty-second century Villengard," he introduced as they stepped into the jungle heat. "Former weapons factory, now this corner of the galaxy's largest banana... grove... or, it should be," he finished, weakly.

"Not Villengard?" Rose asked with a teasing smile.

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that she wasn't surprised. The Doctor looked around. There was no sign of a grove. There were a few banana trees here and there, but they had thrived on the planet since it was first terraformed. He also noticed a large building in the clearing just ahead. "It's Villengard, but it's just a little before fifty-second century Villengard," he admitted.

Rose had spotted the building as well. "Guess I can't hold you entirely responsible for goin' off course, this time," she allowed with a grin. "So, when are we?" she asked, tugging him on towards the structure.

"Fifty-first century," he said, walking along beside her. "Before I was here last time," he added.

"So's this the weapons factory, then?" Rose asked. They had come to an unmarked door in a drab, grey wall. "Shouldn't there be, I dunno, guards or somethin'?"

"Automated exterior security," the Doctor answered, looking around them just in case. "The TARDIS wouldn't trip the upper-atmospheric sensors, though, would she?" he asked, tapping gently along the handle-less door.

"So nobody knows we're here... yet," Rose concluded, slipping her sonic screwdriver from her jeans pocket with a sly smile.

The Doctor grinned back at her, then stepped aside to let her sonic the door open where he'd discovered the latch.

She bent to her task, tucking her humidity-curled hair behind her ear in order to see clearly. "Just remember," Rose said over the whir of the spare screwdriver, "no blowin' the place up this time, 'cause you haven't done it yet." The Doctor's earlier sense of pride and awe at Rose returned, and only increased when he heard the snick of the lock. It wasn't that he was surprised at how much she had learned, but more that she would bother to. As if she really wanted to live this life with him forev -

She straightened from the door, smiling brilliantly at him as she re-pocketed the screwdriver. Before she could say anything, the Doctor kissed her.

First TARDIS-flying, now lessons on paradoxes and lock-sonic'ing. She was simply...

"You amaze me," he said, pulling away just enough to whisper the words over her lips. "I really don't deserve you."

Rose bit her lip, but instead of commenting, she reached behind his neck and pulled him close again for another kiss.

The Doctor complied readily. But after a moment, and with as much reluctance as Rose seemed to feel, the Doctor broke the kiss, glancing at the now open door beside them. Rose smiled shyly, and a little cheekily at him. He took her hand, and saw the gleam of adventure quickly reappear in her eyes as they stepped into the building.

The lights were dimmed in what seemed to be a warehouse section. They passed row after row of shelves, filled with anything from tiny darts to elephant-sized warheads. A bin of palm-sized objects caught the Doctor's eye, and he smiled. "Rose," he said, tugging her over to take a look.

"What're they?" she asked.

The Doctor picked up one of the cylinders, holding it between his finger and thumb. "Batteries," he said, "for 'squareness guns'."

Rose obviously recognized the reference right away, smiling and accepting the battery from the Doctor.

However, when her smile dimmed, the Doctor realized just what he had done.

"Doctor," Rose asked, hesitantly, fingering the device. "I know you said, back when we first left him, you said Jack'd be busy rebuildin' humanity an' all." She set the battery back in the bin, not quite meeting his eyes. "Well, I was wonderin', I've been wonderin' for a while, really, could we go and find him again, sometime?" She did finally look back at him then, as uncertain as he'd ever seen her.

Oh, boy. How to expain this - or excuse this, would be more accurate.

"Would it," she asked, when he made no reply, "I mean, it wouldn't be crossin' any timelines if we showed up after we last saw him, right?"

Just as the Doctor was about to answer, the unmistakable sound of laser fire sounded through the building. Hand in hand, they turned and ran towards the interior door of the warehouse - which was, of course, right towards the sound of the weapons fire.

* * *

Rose's eyes quickly adjusted to the brighter light in what appeared to be a hangar. She gripped the Doctor's hand tightly as they weaved behind the various parked spacecraft, looking for the source of the disturbance. The laser sounds had stopped, but there was still some scuffling and muffled cries coming from up ahead.

When the Doctor peeked around the corner of one of the smaller ships - it looked to Rose like a shuttle from Star Trek - he pulled back quickly, and ducking, pulled Rose across the aisle to crouch behind some large canisters.

There was no need for the Doctor to explain, nor to signal for quiet. Peering through the cargo netting that was draped over the canisters, Rose could see three, lizard-like security guards (their uniforms actually said "security") armed with bulky, green handguns, and holding down a terrified fourth. Once the guard on the floor was restrained, one of the other guards stood and held out something green and glowing. Some kind of green vapor floated toward the guard, now wide-eyed and screaming from behind the hand that was clamped over his mouth.

He stilled as soon as the mist touched him, and his captors relaxed their grips. Rose watched with a growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach as the guards all stood, the formerly terrified guard now holding hands with the ones who had been holding him down. "Aaah, Family of Mine," he hissed to the others.

Rose was just wondering what they could do, and was about to try and ask the Doctor just that, when as one, the lizard guards turned towards their hiding place and flicked out their tongues as if tasting the air. No, Rose thought, not tasting, smelling.

"Not good," the Doctor breathed.

The newest member of the Family stepped forward, and with a tone that made it sound like a dinner order, declared, "Time Lord!"

The Doctor backed them out from behind the netting and around another ship. Then, turning towards the hangar door, he yelled, "Run!"

They were just through the door when the first laser blast rang out.

Rose and the Doctor took turns casting nervous glances back over their shoulders as they ducked and weaved their way back through the warehouse. More than once, a blast erupted within a few feet of them, just as they turned a corner. With a tremendous sense of relief, Rose saw the door they had entered through standing slightly ajar. The Doctor wrenched it open as they came to it, then pushed Rose through ahead of him. "Get to the tree line," he ordered, pulling his own sonic screwdriver from his trouser pocket.

Rose gritted her teeth and did as he said, only because she knew he could catch her up in an instant if only he could get the door locked.

She ran across the small clearing between the building and the jungle, threw herself behind the nearest, large tree, then looked back for the Doctor. Fortunately, he was already following. Unfortunately, Rose could already see the door buckling outwards from the laser bolt impacts. As soon as the Doctor reached her, they were running full pelt again, straight back towards the TARDIS.

"Doctor," Rose panted out, dodging another laser blast that sent a shower of palm fronds down on top of them, "who are they? D'ya know?"

He glanced behind them, and kept running. "They're normally peaceful, passive," he answered. "They don't take hosts; they hardly hold on to their own bodies."

The TARDIS was in view, just a few yards away. A blast hit the blue box.

"Very not good," the Doctor muttered, dropping back to shield Rose as they ran.

Rose pulled out her TARDIS key, but the doors opened on their own as soon as her hand touched the wood. Rose was pushed in through the doors and knocked down to the grating, the full weight of the Doctor landing against her back, as she heard an explosion in the console room.

The Doctor sprang off of her, jumping up to close the TARDIS' doors. Rose climbed to her feet, seeing sparks erupting from the console.

Coming quickly back up the ramp to her, the Doctor took her by the shoulders. "Rose, did they see you?" he asked, urgently.

"Not sure," she answered, startled. "They were shootin' at us, but -"

"This is important," the Doctor interrupted. "Did they see your face?"

"Um, no, I don't think so," Rose told him. At least, she hadn't gotten a good look at them since they had abandoned their hiding place.

Looking only slightly more relaxed, the Doctor released her and moved quickly to the console, dematerializing the TARDIS. "Off we go," he announced as he pulled a lever and the TARDIS lurched into action.

Rose steadied herself against a column, and was just ready to breathe a sigh of relief, when an alarm chimed from the console. She moved with the Doctor to the scanner, even though she still couldn't interpret the Gallifreyan symbols it displayed.

"Arrgh, they're following us!" he announced, circling the console as he operated the various controls.

Rose wasn't about to demand a lesson just now. Instead, she asked, "What, through the Vortex? They can do that?"

"That was a Time Agency weapons factory back there," he answered.

"Vortex manipulator," said Rose, remembering Jack's broken wrist device.

The Doctor nodded. "They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe," he said. He paused, returning to the scanner. "They're never going to stop," he added, as if just realizing it. He grabbed at his hair in frustration, glancing around the console room. Looking up at the overhead, he said to himself, "Unless... I'll have to do it."

"Doctor?" Rose asked, worried at his sudden quiet. "Do what?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, and asked her, "You trust me?"

Rose scoffed, refusing to dignify the question with an answer.

"Of course you trust me," the Doctor continued for her. "What sort of question is that? It's just... that it's all gonna depend on you," he told her, then threw open a panel of the floor grating and dived below it.

"What is?" she asked the top of his head, as he rifled through the various items stashed below the console.

"And I know that you're dependable," he went on, continuing his search without answering, "but this is a little out of both our leagues and -"

"What're we doin'?" She asked again.

The Doctor gave a small "Gotcha!" of triumph, then held up an old fashioned silver fob watch. "Hiding," he answered her, then climbed back out of the hole. He pressed the watch into her hands, covering them with his own. "Take this watch," he told her, looking her in the eyes, "'cause my life depends on it."

She held tightly onto the watch as he left her to manipulate the controls again. He was doing that thing, where he was trying to project an air of confidence and nonchalance because he was utterly terrified.

"Doctor?" she prompted, trying not to let her own fear show in her voice.

He avoided her eyes, focusing on the console as he answered. "Those creatures are hunters, they can sniff out anyone - and me being a Time Lord; well, I'm unique." He looked up at her, not bothering to hide his fear. "They can track me down across the whole of time and space," he said.

Hence the running, she thought. But she still didn't understand. "I thought you said they're peaceful?" Rose asked. "Whaddya mean, they're hunters?"

"Normally they'd be on search-and-rescue, things like that," the Doctor said. "Otherwise, they don't even leave their planet. But these are obviously different."

"And they can follow us in the TARDIS, so what good's runnin' or hidin' or anythin'?" Rose asked.

"They can smell me, they haven't seen me," the Doctor told her. "And their life's bound to be running out, so, we hide, wait for them to die."

"But they can track us across Time. And. Space," Rose observed.

"You should be fine around other humans," he answered with a casual wave of his hand, then grew deathly serious. "And that's why I've got to do it." He looked her in the eyes. "I have to stop being a Time Lord. I'm gonna become human."

* * *

_To be continued._

_I can't tell you how long I've been wanting to write this story. And, according to the reviews I've gotten, a fair number of you have been looking forward to it as well. I hope it lives up to all our expectations!_


	2. Changes

_I tried, I really tried to read the original "Human Nature" story by Paul Cornell... but the episode was just so much better, I couldn't be bothered to finish it! So, there'll be some teeny, tiny bits of this story that were inspired by the original (the List, for instance), but for the most part I'll be sticking to the episode as it aired - with my own twists, of course :)_

_Beta'd by **Anjirika**._

_And I still don't own Superman, either._

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Changes**

Rose stood still, eyes unfocused as they vaguely followed the Doctor bustling around the console. Her thumb absentmindedly traced the Gallifreyan design etched into the pocket watch she was still holding. He was gonna what? she thought.

"What?" she shouted at last.

The Doctor brought himself up short, one hand on the console, the other on some sort of helmet-looking object that was hanging from the ceiling by a cable. "What, what?" he asked, seeming genuinely surprised he might have said anything the least bit confusing.

"Whaddya mean, you're gonna become human?" Rose clarified - quite unnecessarily, she thought.

The Doctor looked away, turning to the helmet. "Remember the make-me-human chamber?" he asked.

Rose blinked. "From Superman?"

He fiddled with something on the helmet, then held it up as he explained. "This is a chameleon arch. It can re-write my biology. Literally change every cell in my body."

Okay, Rose thought, that sounded familiar. A knot formed her stomach as she asked, "It's gonna make you regenerate? As a human?"

"No, no, no," said the Doctor, dismissing the thought. "The arch makes a completely reversible, cross-species transformation. In this case, I should even look the same. Human, Time Lord, we're so close, after all, on the outside... but no. It's only temporary. That's what the watch is for." He set the helmet on the console, then moved to take her hands in his, the watch still cradled between them. "Time Lord physiology is some of the most complex in the universe, right down to my DNA. A one hundred percent human mind and body couldn't handle that, but the watch can store the Time Lord part until it's safe."

"And when'll that be?" Rose asked, still going over what he'd said in her head, trying to make sure she was following.

"Oh, shouldn't be more than a few months," the Doctor told her. "This 'Family', they're like mayflies: extremely limited lifespan. That's why they need to consume a Time Lord. Otherwise, three months and they die."

"Three months," Rose echoed, still a bit shell-shocked.

The Doctor squeezed her hand. "Yep!" he confirmed, with patently false cheer. He gently took the watch from her grasp, and returned to the arch. "I've already set it for 'human'," he told her, snapping the watch into the front of the headset.

Something about that statement made Rose's skin crawl, "I've set it to 'human'", just the cavalier way he said it, the unnaturalness of it. She had briefly entertained the notion of him becoming human in the past, but she'd always brushed it aside. She never really wanted it. She never needed it. She loved him, unattainable Time Lord and all, just the way he was.

He briefly checked the scanner. "They're still coming," he confirmed, then continued making adjustments on both the helmet and the TARDIS console. "Now, the TARDIS will take care of everything," he told her as he worked. "Invent a life story for me, find me a setting, and integrate me." He looked up at her. "Can't do the same for you," he said, apologetically. "You'll just have to improvise."

"Not the first time," Rose said, with more confidence than she felt.

He nodded. "John Smith should have enough residual awareness to let you in," he added, turning back to his work.

Wait, she thought. Residual? "You won't recognize me?" she asked.

"I'll be in the watch," he explained. "I'm not sure what'll be left in the human me's mind, tiny human brain and all, just enough to stay out of trouble and unnoticed, I hope. Just plain John Smith."

Something finally clicked as he talked about the tiny, ape brain, only increasing her fear for him. "But, hang on," Rose asked, "isn't rewriting everything gonna hurt?"

"Yeah," he admitted quietly. "It's gonna hurt." He turned to the console and hit a final button, returning instantly to his happy-go-lucky self. "There we are!" he announced. "A few minutes to synch up, and we'll be ready to go."

The lights flickered briefly, and the TARDIS lurched. "What's that?" Rose asked, clinging to the console.

The Doctor steadied the swinging chameleon arch, then moved back to the scanner, bringing up another display. "She's changed course, the TARDIS," he explained. "Looks like... early twentieth-century earth."

"I should prob'ly change, then," Rose observed. Blue jeans and a fitted blouse probably wouldn't go over very well anywhere near the Victorian era. The dungaree skirt sure didn't...

The Doctor gave her a once over. "Shame, that." But before Rose could process that comment, he went on, "The TARDIS'll have everything laid out. And you might want to do something with your hair, since it'll be a while."

Rose fingered the ends of her hair. She'd just given it a color a week ago, but the roots wouldn't last anywhere near three months. "Right," she said. Then, glancing between the Doctor and the helmet, she warned, "Don't go changin' without me."

He gave her a weak smile as she headed off to the wardrobe room.

* * *

The Doctor shrugged into his suit jacket, then turned on the recorder. Tapping the camera, he checked the monitor to make sure it was working. He settled himself in front of the camera, and began.

"Rose, before I change, here's a list of instructions for when I'm human:

"One, don't let me hurt anyone. We can't have that, but you know what humans are like.

"Two, don't worry about the TARDIS, I'll put her on emergency power so they can't detect her. Just let her hide away.

"Four - no, wait a minute, three. No getting involved in big historical events.

"Four, don't let me eat meat, if you can.

"And five, very important, five. Don't let me eat pears. I hate pears. John Smith is a character I made up, but I won't know that. I'll think I am him, and he might do something stupid like eat a pear. In three months, I don't want to wake up from being human and taste that.

"Six, don't let me hurt animals, especially owls.

"Seven, don't let me commit suicide, if for some reason I want to.

"Eight, don't let me leave the area, or you, behind.

"Nine, don't let me develop an addiction. It'd be bad enough while I'm human, but there's no telling what could happen when the Time Lord physiology tries to reassert itself on an altered human physiology. Enough said.

"Ten, don't let me do anything impossible.

"Eleven, the watch. Unfortunately, it can't be kept in the TARDIS for long after it's activated; it would mess up the telepathic circuits. Everything I am is kept safe in there. Now, I've put a perception filter on it so the human me won't think anything of it. To him it's just a watch. But once it's opened, I'll become a Time Lord again, and if the Family are still around they'll be able to find me. Don't let me open it, or lose it, or give it away. That watch_ is me_.

"Twelve, If anything goes wrong, if they find us, Rose, then you know what to do. Open the watch.

"And thirteen..." The Doctor shifted in his seat, and adjusted his tie. "Thirteen, I... I just want to let you know... that I believe in you," he said. Okay, true, but not what he wanted to say. "I want you to know how much I... trust you," came out next. "It's a tricky thing this, and it shouldn't be tried at the best of times, and while these certainly aren't the best of times, you're certainly the best to be watching my back..." Now, he was babbling. Just say it, he scolded himself. "And Rose," he cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck, then looked up at the sound of Rose returning to the console room.

He quickly switched off the recorder.

"Just recording some instructions for you," he told her from behind the time rotor. "Should start to play automatically once the transformation's..." He trailed off as he stood and took in the sight of her.

She set down a couple of large suitcases on the grating by the captain's chair. She was wearing a traveling coat, buttoned up over long skirts. She had washed her face free of makeup, and had her now-brunette hair tied back in a low bun.

"Hey," she greeted, glancing away nervously.

He swallowed. "Hey, back," he said. Somehow, _we should hide for our lives more often _didn't seem to appropriately convey what he wanted to tell her. She really was beautiful; he wished she wouldn't hide it with makeup and dye.

"So, what now?" she asked.

The Doctor shook himself out of his musings. "The arch should be almost -" a chime sounded from the device, "ready," he concluded, moving over to the helmet. He took it in his hands. "Never thought I'd use this," he admitted. "All the times I wondered..." he glanced at Rose but didn't elaborate, instead putting the helmet on his head.

He made to activate a control on the console, but stopped, abruptly.

"Oh, hang on," he said, remembering that in a moment he would be another man. He began rifling through his various pockets. "Wouldn't do for John Smith to wake up with this -" he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and handed it to Rose, "on his person. Or this, or this," he turned over the psychic paper, several capacitors, a pet rock (more to get it out of his pockets than to prevent John Smith from finding it), and what amounted to a small heap of other objects. Rose had kept a few items like the spare screwdriver, but left most of them on the captain's chair.

The Doctor reached into his breast pocket, and briefly touched the ring before pulling his hand back. He couldn't very well hand it over to Rose. He could only hope his human counterpart wouldn't lose it or anything...

"Alright?" he asked, readying himself.

Rose huffed out a laugh. "You're askin' me?"

"Right," he acknowledged. She obviously wasn't completely alright with this, but then, neither was he. The Doctor did a last minute check, his finger on the final button. "Okay. Instructions on the monitor... oh! And I'll probably be unconscious for a while after this is done, so don't worry; reduced human capacity for pain and all." He looked at her, failthfully standing by his side despite this whole ridiculous scheme, and made up his mind. He pulled her close to him, kissed her hair, and murmured, "I love you."

Then he pushed the button and screamed.

* * *

_To be continued._


	3. Meet John Smith

_Nice, quick update for you. Partially inspired by reviews (**OobieMcRuby**), too, so keep 'em coming ;)_

_Oh, and speaking of reviews, no one seems to have noticed how item number two on the Doctor's list was alterd from the TV episode..._

___Beta'd by **Anjirika**._

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Meet John Smith**

Rose knew exactly when she had last been this terrified. It was when the Doctor had regenerated in front of her. He had been in pain then, she thought, but the actual regeneration was silent, if sort of brilliantly explosive.

This was terrifying in a completely different way. She had the small comfort of knowing what was happening, but the Doctor was screaming and writhing in unquestionable agony. She couldn't hold him still, she could only hope to deflect him from hitting his head or anything.

He was suddenly silent, standing by the console. "Doctor?" She asked, tentatively reaching out a hand to his arm. She moved to try and see his face, but all she saw were his eyes rolling to the back of his head before he collapsed against her.

Rose caught him as well as she could, guiding him down to lie on the floor of the console room. She was vaguely aware of the Doctor's voice from the monitor playing his recorded instructions, but she was more preoccupied with the Doctor himself. He was out cold.

Rose dug the heel of her palms into her eyes, wiping away the tears that were blurring her vision.

She checked for a pulse, and was relieved and surprised to feel a normal, human heartbeat. His hands and forehead were warm, but only as warm as any normal human, she realized.

How long would he be out, she wondered. Had it worked right? It seemed that he was human, but she would have to wait until he woke up to find out what he remembered. And would he be able to change back? She would have to wait three months to test that part of the plan.

I love you, he had said. Just before he had pushed the button. Wasn't that just like him? "Stupid alien - human - _man_." She couldn't help but feel he must have been desperate, as unsure of the whole process as she was now feeling.

The video recording finally penetrated her consciousness.

"Eleven, the watch," the Doctor's image said.

She would have to rewind it, but she moved to watch the recording play out.

"Unfortunately, it can't be kept in the TARDIS for long after it's activated; it would mess up the telepathic circuits."

The TARDIS was still in flight. She'd have to move him as soon as they landed.

"Everything I am is kept safe in there."

Rose caught the chameleon arch where it was swinging from its cable. The watch fell out into her hand as soon as she touched it, and the arch reeled itself back up to the ceiling automatically.

"Now, I've put a perception filter on it so the human me won't think anything of it."

She looked between the man lying on the grating and the watch in her hand, wondering where her Doctor really was.

"To him it's just a watch. But once it's opened, I'll become a Time Lord again, and if the Family are still around they'll be able to find me. Don't let me open it, or lose it, or give it away. That watch_ is me_."

Rose pressed her hands tightly around the watch, and for a moment, thought she could feel something: a pulse, some sense of the Doctor. But it faded quickly, and she bent to the still-unconscious man and slipped the watch into the pocket of his suit jacket. She reached up, brushing the hair from his forehead. It felt different. He looked completely the same, but his hair felt different. Less soft, or something. More human, she supposed.

"Twelve," the recording went on, "If anything goes wrong, if they find us, Rose, then you know what to do. Open the watch."

That had sounded to Rose like the final instruction, but the Doctor continued after a beat.

"And thirteen..." another pause, during which Rose watched the recorded Doctor shift in his seat and tug at his tie. She narrowed her eyes. "Thirteen, I... I just want to let you know... that I believe in you," he said. "I want you to know how much I... trust you. It's a tricky thing, this, and it shouldn't be tried at the best of times, and while these certainly aren't the best of times..." he was babbling. What did he really want to say, Rose wondered. "And Rose," he cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck nervously, then looked up, away from the camera.

The recording looped after that.

Was that supposed to have been his goodbye? I trust you and... I love you, maybe? Rose found it hard to be comforted by his message. First, he must really have been doubtful of his prospects to even start talking like that. And second, he still hardly got the words out. Maybe he didn't even really mean it...

"Stop it," Rose told herself, aloud. "Don't start thinkin' like that."

Rose watched the entire tape twice through before the TARDIS landed. When the ship did finally come to a rest, the lights in the console room dimmed, and the usual background noises diminished. Emergency power, the Doctor had said.

Rose stepped through the doors to find the TARDIS parked inside some kind of shed or cabin. Outside, it looked like a rainy day in England. Remembering the Doctor's instructions about the watch not staying inside the TARDIS, she carried the suitcases the TARDIS had packed for them out into the shed, then dragged the Doctor out and locked the TARDIS behind them.

She sat, holding his hand, for about five minutes before he finally stirred.

At long last, the Doctor came to and blinked confusedly up at Rose. No, not the Doctor, she reminded herself. "J-John?" she asked, hesitantly.

He frowned at her. "You called me John?" he asked.

Rose worried, what if the back story didn't take? What if he didn't "remember" anything? How would she blend in with an amnesiac? "Shouldn't I?" she asked him.

"No, er, yes, that is, it's fine," he quickly reassured her. "I was just used to 'Mr. Smith'," he said, frowning. Then his expression lightened. "John is nice."

Relief flooded through her. From the way he was smiling up at her, he seemed to be alright.

"Rose?" he asked.

And it seemed that he remembered her, she thought with a bubble of delight.

He looked around, taking in his immediate surroundings. "Why am I on the floor?"

* * *

Rose was relieved at how accepting John was of her explanation for his predicament. He'd had an accident, been thrown from a horse. Since it was raining, she had dragged him inside this shed, along with their luggage. Unfortunately, the horses had bolted in the storm, so they were stuck for the moment.

She wasn't sure if they should have been riding horses, in a coach, or in a motorcar, but horses seemed the safest bet to her for early twentieth century earth, not yet knowing precisely where or when they were.

She got a good deal of his invented background out of him by asking what he remembered. He was a school teacher - or would be soon. He had just returned from his graduate work, and was on his way to accept a position as a history teacher at a boarding school.

"Your mother," John told her, "suggested that you accompany me. Said it befitted my new position to have at least some small staff at my disposal."

His smile told Rose that he was glad to have her with him. "And how'd you know my Mum?" she asked him.

"Really, Rose," he said, sitting up straighter and shaking his head. He winced at the movement, but played it off. "You know all of this, why do you insist on having me tell you?"

She reverted to her initial excuse. "You had quite a big fall," she said. "Just wanna make sure you haven't forgotten anythin', keep you talkin' 'til we can get you to a doctor."

"I admit I feel, well, beaten up all over," he said, stretching and rolling his shoulders stiffly where he sat, "but I don't need a doctor."

I do, Rose thought, but held the comment in check. "So, my Mum?" she prompted, ignoring his protests.

John sighed in defeat, then smiled. "Sweet lady, Mrs. Tyler." Rose's eyebrows climbed, but he didn't seem to notice. "She'd been our housekeeper for years, ever since she was widowed. I'm sorry," he added with a glance at Rose.

"It's fine," she told him. "So, I grew up in your house?" she asked.

"In Nottingham, yes. You were still quite young when I left for university. I didn't expect -" he cut himself off and looked to the door of the shed, but Rose didn't miss the blush coloring his cheeks. "I think the rain's stopped," he said, climbing to his feet.

Rose was at his side, steadying him. "D'ya think you can walk?" Rose asked.

"Certainly," he said, taking a few, hesitant steps towards the door.

Once outside, he looked around, then turned back to Rose with a smile. "You see, nothing wrong with my memory," he announced. "We were on the road through Blackdown Woods, and we were about three miles from the school," he squinted towards the western horizon, then promptly turned on his heel and pointed to the east, "in that direction."

She was glad he at least seemed to have a clue as to what they were supposed to be doing. "Better get started, then," said Rose, going back inside to retrieve the suitcases. "No tellin' how long 'til someone passes by, and it looks like it'll be gettin' dark soon." She cast one last glance at the TARDIS. John hadn't even looked in the ship's direction, but Rose guessed that was a part of his programming. "See ya soon, old girl," she whispered, then stepped outside.

"Rose, please!" John halted her before she had taken two steps in the direction he had indicated. "Please," he said more gently, taking the suitcases from her. "Domestics are one thing, but I wouldn't be any sort of a gentleman if I allowed you to carry these yourself."

He made to step off, but Rose managed to keep a grip on one of the handles and tried to tug it out of his grasp. "Yeah, well, you can be chivalrous all you like after you get your head examined."

"Rose," he argued, attempting to pull the suitcase away from her, "I'll not have it. I'm fine. Now, let me - have - the trunk!"

She let go, and fell back, catching herself against the building. He staggered in the opposite direction, until he slipped and fell on his backside in the middle of the muddy road.

Rose bit her lip hard to keep from laughing at the look of surprise on his face. But after a moment of examining his own position, John burst out laughing at himself. Rose couldn't help but join in, then stepped out into the road to help him up.

"How 'bout I just take one?" she offered as a concession.

"Ah, brilliant idea, brilliant," he allowed, grinning sheepishly at her. "Perfect. Division of labor." He reached up, Rose assumed to scratch at the back of his neck, but noticed the mud on his hand just in time. "Right, then, off we go?" he asked, picking up both of the suitcases, but then handing one out to Rose.

* * *

After half an hour of walking, one of the locals came by in a cart, and offered them a lift the rest of the way to the school.

Somehow, they really had been expecting John at the school. He was shown to his rooms and invited to meet the headmaster after he'd refreshed himself.

His position was not so lofty as to warrant a personal servant, but Rose was offered a place with the housekeeping staff. She was shown to a small, two-person room and left to get herself situated.

* * *

_To be continued._


	4. Dreams Versus Reality

_____Beta'd by **Anjirika**._

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Dreams Versus Reality**

Although she didn't like to admit it, Rose was always a little nervous when she got separated from the Doctor, especially on undercover work. She looked around the room she had been given, wondering how well she would be able to fit in under the close scrutiny of a roommate.

Fortunately for Rose, when Jenny showed up in the room later that evening, she was delighted to learn Rose had joined the housekeeping staff a week into the term. Not only would Rose be helping to fill a two-person vacancy, but they took to each other right away - despite the fact that Rose told her she was only going to be there for a few months.

* * *

"Brace yerself," Jenny warned Rose the next morning, as she stood outside of one of the teacher's rooms holding a breakfast tray. "Professor Grinton's the closest to the kitchens, so he gets his food either first or last. But he starts classes too early to be last."

With that she knocked on the door, and stepped into the darkened rooms.

"Mornin', Professor," Jenny said cheerily, with a wink towards Rose. Jenny set the tray down on his desk, then motioned to Rose to get the curtains on the far side of the room.

The Professor, or what Rose assumed was the Professor, growled from beneath the bed covers. "Morning!" he replied angrily. "You call this morning? Barely twilight at all. Not even a rooster's call. Why..."

He went on like that the entire time the girls were in the room.

When they finished, Jenny closed the door with a bright, "Have a good day, Professor!"

His "Harrumph," followed them down the hall.

As they pushed the breakfast cart to the next room, Jenny told Rose, "Don't let 'im get to ya. He grouches like a bear, but he always takes the tray, don't he?"

* * *

Rose very quickly got the hang of the breakfast routine. Jenny let Rose take the lead, following along only to supervise and to introduce her to the teachers - to those teachers who bothered with the names of the maid service, anyway.

Even though it would only be Rose's second day on the job, Jenny said that tomorrow they could split the rooms fifty-fifty, and get it all done in half the time.

When they got to John Smith's door, Rose took the tray with a smile. "C'mon," she invited Jenny. "This time, I get to introduce you."

* * *

_The doors of the Blue Box opened, and a dazzling, golden light poured out. A figure stepped out from the midst of the light, somehow dimming it with her own brilliance. Golden hair and golden eyes..._

_"You're gonna burn," the Doctor warned her, lamenting._

_Rose looked at him then, the gold dimming slightly to reveal tear-filled brown eyes. "I want you safe," she told him. "My Doctor."_

_The room shifted around her, constricting to a much narrower corridor. The all-around glow had faded, but Rose still seemed golden._

_"It's alive," she told him, supporting herself against the wall of the corridor. She was struggling, as if in pain, but held her hand out in warning when he tried to step closer to her. "It's alive..."_

_"Rose," the Doctor begged, "what are you talking about?"_

_"The sun's alive!" she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks from her still-closed eyes. She braced herself with both hands against the wall of the corridor and choked out the words, "They scooped out its heart, and now it's screamin'!"_

_Another woman spoke up. "What do you mean? How can a sun be alive?" she asked, incredulous. She turned to the Doctor. "Why's she saying that?"_

_The Doctor couldn't answer. His entire focus was on Rose, as she turned towards them._

_"'Cause it's livin' in me," she cried, at last opening her eyes, golden and burning._

* * *

John awoke with a start, his single heart beating fast enough to make up for the Doctor's two. He had just time enough to recognize his new rooms in the dim light, before the door opened and Rose stepped in, followed by another maid.

Rose, perfectly herself, brunette and brown-eyed.

Even as memories of the golden dream-Rose began to fade, he came more fully to himself, ashamed - well, maybe more embarrassed - to have been dreaming about her. It was hardly proper, even considering how long he'd known her...

* * *

Rose balanced the breakfast tray on her hip, knocking with her free hand. "Mr. Smith?" she called as she opened the door.

He looked so much like the Doctor she thought, propped up in bed on his elbows, with a familiar, relieved smile on his face, and wearing the same old stripy jim-jams. The TARDIS must have packed them for him.

His eyes widened and his smile dimmed after a moment of looking at her. He leapt out of bed, scrambling for his dressing gown.

"I did knock," Rose semi-apologized. She tried to hide her smirk as she set down the breakfast tray.

John's babbling, it turned out, was far less technical than the Doctor's, and more self-conscious. "Yes, yes, of course," he said. "My fault. I'll try to be more presentable next time. No time for a lie in, it's a school day after all, yes."

* * *

Rose's day progressed, scrubbing floors, eating a small, hurried lunch with Jenny and the other staff, cleaning the boys' dormitories, bringing tea to the teacher's rooms, dusting, washing windows. Rose collapsed on her bed at dinner time, but Jenny wasn't going to have it.

"C'mon," she said. "Get changed, an' we'll head into the village. It's Friday, an' yer first day, and dinner's on me."

Rose thought she'd really like to stop in at the pub, but that apparently wasn't tolerated.

* * *

After dinner, Rose told Jenny she was too tired to stay out, but would be fine heading back on her own. She took a little detour, following the road out through the woods to the little shed where the TARDIS was hidden. She just had to stop in to say hello to the ship.

It was eerie, seeing the console room so dark. It reminded her of when they'd fallen through to the parallel world, Pete's world.

Rose walked around the console, telling the TARDIS about her first day, letting her know that John Smith was oblivious and inconspicuous, just like he should be.

Her hopes of maybe sneaking back sometime to sleep in her own room were dashed when she found that the corridor off of the console room had disappeared.

"Three months," Rose consoled, as much to the TARDIS as to herself. "Three more months, and it's back to the stars."

* * *

TWO MONTHS LATER...

* * *

John Smith awoke in the pre-dawn light of an ordinary Thursday morning to much more cluttered rooms than the ones he'd first occupied upon his arrival at the school. He had not been moved, but books were now piled on almost every horizontal surface, papers stuffed in folders here and there.

John wrapped himself in his dressing gown and sat down at his desk. He lit a lamp, opened a leather-bound journal to a blank page near the middle, and began to draw.

Of all his dreams, he had come to savor the ones of Rose the most. None of the Doctor's previous adventures had the capacity to make his hearts swell in such an overwhelming manner.

Heart, not hearts, John mentally corrected himself. Two hearts; such a strange concept.

He traced the moons in the sky, contemplating whether to invest in watercolors. It was the blue and violet hues, after all, that he had most wanted to show her.

The couple on the grass below came next. The jacket was just large enough to sit on, the Doctor leaning back on his hands, Rose pressed close to his side.

John was still surprised at how he could imagine her with a man with an entirely different face from his own, without a hint of jealousy.

He drew them from behind, imagining how they must have looked to an outsider - for while he was the Doctor in his dreams, John Smith was very much a human, and so far removed from the impossible adventures in his mind.

With the last few strokes, John finished the drawing, scrawling in a name: _Delta Magna_. He had no inkling as to the meaning of the phrase, aside from its literal Greek and Latin origins, but he knew that it somehow fit with the scene.

He sat, looking at the drawing, such an inadequate representation of his dream.

Of Rose.

For two months he had been keeping a respectful, professional distance. Two months of breakfasts and teas, making small talk, exchanging pleasantries when they passed in the corridors. Occasionally, he had been able to talk to her for just a little longer than normal if a mutually-interesting topic came up, usually something from their common past.

He looked again at his dream-Rose. An increasingly small voice in his head railed against the impropriety, but a stronger, ever-growing voice hailed their teacher-and-servant arrangement as an opportunity. He simply had to find it within himself to approach her, to build upon their friendship. And maybe, if she would allow it, they could pursue something more.

His hearts' desire, John thought, then corrected himself: heart's desire.

A glance at his clock told him Rose would be by soon with his breakfast. He blotted the drawing, slipped it back into its place in his desk, then stood to get ready for a new day.

* * *

When Rose did arrive, she didn't seem as cheerful as John had gotten used to seeing her. In fact, she seemed angry.

"Is anything the matter, Rose?" he asked as she moved about the room, violently throwing back the curtains, stacking books with much more force than necessary.

"Course not," she denied, not looking at him.

She moved to the hearth, kicking a few stray bits of charred wood under the grate, poking mercilessly at the glowing embers.

She set the poker back in its stand, then spun towards him. "It's just," she announced, "every mornin' for two months, it's serve him breakfast with a smile, while he does nothin' but complain about how early it is. Then, for once, I try and make a special trip in the middle of everythin'. I go all the way back to the kitchens, just to bring him his breakfast a little later, and what do I get?" She made vicious quotation marks in the air with her fingers. "'It's cold.'"

The tirade put John a little off his form, but he gathered himself enough to ask, "Who's this, then?"

"Grinton," Rose ground out. She sighed. "Sorry, _Professor_ Grinton." She composed herself, turning away and brushing her hand affectionately over the fob watch on the mantelpiece before continuing around the room. "He just doesn't like me wakin' him up, no matter what I do. Just forget it."

John was surprised. "Who wouldn't want to wake up to you?" he asked, before the words fully registered with his mind.

Rose turned back to him, as the implications of his question hit him fully.

"Eh, um, that is, well, what I mean is that you could come here first, if you liked. I'm rather an early riser, and, uh -"

Rose laughed, and even though it was at his expense, John was proud to have instigated it. "'S okay," Rose told him, opening the last set of curtains more gently. "I think I'd rather save the best for last."

She was smiling at him, and he was grinning back at her, and all thoughts of anything else he should have been trying to say to her had fled John's mind completely.

"'Sides," she added, hefting the pile of books that needed to go back to the library, "Least it's only once a month that I've gotta play dinner lady..."

With that last, utterly undecipherable comment, she left him to his breakfast.

* * *

Ages ago, Rose had sat in a chippy railing against even the possibility of returning to a normal life. But here she was, working day in and day out, as if she were a shop girl again. And it really was like working in a shop. The customers - meaning the boys and the teachers staff - either ignored her outright, or smiled politely before proceeding to ignore her.

Except for John, of course.

Leave it to the Doctor to have his humanized, physical form babysat by someone as sweet and oblivious as John Smith.

Rose often wondered how much of John was the Doctor shining through, and how much was what the TARDIS had written into him. Most of the time, he was the picture of a 1913 history teacher: his hands clasped behind his back, and his head in the clouds. But with her, he seemed different.

She wanted to believe his attachment to her meant that there was more of the Doctor in him than just his looks. The Doctor had told her that the real him was in the watch. John Smith was just a fiction, meant not to stand out. But Rose missed the Doctor, and she couldn't talk to a watch.

Still, in the past two months, John had never given her any reason to suspect there was more to himself than he let on. She would just have to continue torturing herself with the sight of him, and wait a few more weeks to get her Doctor back.

* * *

John was making his way to his after-lunch class, when he caught sight of Rose and... Jenny, yes, Jenny, scrubbing the floor ahead of him. They were thoroughly engrossed in their task and in their conversation, and did not notice his approach.

"That's mad," Jenny said to Rose. "Even if I could get outta here, where'd I go?"

"What if you could go anywhere?" Rose asked her.

"I don't know anywhere," Jenny countered.

"Why not everywhere, then?" Rose asked. "What if you could travel the world, and to other worlds, out into the stars?"

John's heart leapt. He heard Jenny laughing behind him, but missed the rest of their conversation as he walked on.

Would Rose... did she... could she... If she really thought that way, perhaps he didn't have to hide. John wondered what might possibly happen if he told her of his dreams.

* * *

When Rose brought his afternoon tea, he found his resolve crumbling. With every smile she gave him, he worried what it would be like to lose it, should he frighten her away. He wasn't sure what he did say to her, while she made her brief circuit of his room, straightening up before she returned to her duties.

Finally, the words just spilled out.

"Rose?" he asked, gaining her attention. "I overheard you speaking with Jenny in the corridor earlier today," he admitted.

"What about?" she asked, distractedly.

"Well," he paused, the last chance to check himself before he admitted it... "travelling to the stars, I believe you said."

Rose straightened, biting her lip, and suddenly her face was closed off to him.

John panicked. He hadn't even mentioned his dreams, and he was already losing her. But, maybe that was the problem. She thought he didn't share her imagination. "It's fascinating, really," he insisted.

To his relief, his Rose was instantly back, smiling at him. "Fascinating?" she asked, picking up some more library books and heading towards the door.

"Well, yes," he admitted, following her. "The possibility of reaching other worlds, it's rather inspiring, don't you think?"

She had a strange, but not unfriendly look on her face as they stepped out into the corridor. "Ya think a person could really, I dunno, travel to other planets, maybe?" she asked right back.

He was on the verge of an emphatic yes, and had the sudden urge to take her hand and ask her to travel with him, when the headmaster and another teacher made to pass them by.

"Travel to other planets?" the headmaster inquired. "What's this, then, Smith?"

John had not a single clue as to what forced his mouth open in the reply, "Other planets? Oh, how fantastic. Good afternoon, Headmaster, Mr. Louis. Miss Tyler."

Alone in his rooms a moment later, John banged his head back against the closed door.

* * *

How dare he, Rose thought to herself for the hundredth time, as she closed the door on the second-to-last teacher's room the next morning. All afternoon and evening, she had been fuming, just hoping to find him alone.

After two months of searching for the Doctor, he finally gave her a hint... and then cowered back in the face of the other teachers.

Rose picked up the last breakfast tray from the cart, and knocked on the door labeled. "J. Smith". He would learn to regret it. Whether he learned it now, or when he "woke up" in a few weeks, that remained to be seen.

"Mornin' Mr. Smith," she said coolly, as she entered the room and set his tray down. She took a satisfied last look at the sliced pears before moving off to tidy up.

"Rose," he greeted, but something in his voice made her stop. He was sitting, dressed in his suit and gown. He looked awful.

"What's wrong, John?" she asked.

He laughed a sad, little laugh, and said, "I am."

Rose's mind raced. What had happened? Was he dying? Was the chameleon arch not meant to transform a person for two whole months? "Whaddya mean, _you are_?" she asked him.

He stood from his chair and approached her, resolutely. He didn't look sick, as far as she could tell in the dim light. He took her hands. Once again, she was surprised at their warmth, but accepted the contact gratefully.

"Tell me what's wrong," she begged.

"I'm a coward," he bit out, staring at his feet. "I meant to... yesterday, I was honestly... but I don't know what got into me," he stammered. "Years of training and convention... I was suffocating and... I took the easy way out." He looked into her eyes. "I'm so sorry," he concluded.

Rose slumped back into a chair with a relieved sigh. He was just apologizing. "'S okay," she told him.

John crouched down to her level. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Just had me worried there for a minute, is all," Rose told him. "I'm fine."

"Well, good, good," he said. After a moment, he crossed the room and opened the curtains behind his desk. "Because, well, I was hoping I might be able to make it up to you." He reached into a drawer, and pulled out a leather-bound book. "I don't want to alarm you," he said, coming back to her, not realizing he was doing just that with his words, "but I thought you might be interested."

He didn't hand her the book, but stood beside her, looking at it.

"I have these dreams, sometimes," he said. "Well, almost every night. I dream I'm this..." and, finally, a sort of light came into his eyes, and the beginnings of a smile appeared. "I dream I'm this adventurer, this... daredevil - a madman."

Rose stood, entranced. Was there a chance he remembered?

"'The Doctor', I'm called," he told her. Rose's heart soared. "And you're there, as my... companion," he added.

He remembered! Rose wanted to shout. Her Doctor was in there, somewhere.

He was smiling at her, and searching her eyes for something. "Ah, it's funny how dreams slip away," he said, then looked down at the book in his hands. "But I have written down some of these dreams, in the form of fiction... um..." he laughed a little self-consciously, "not that it would be of any interest..." He looked back up at her, hopefully, Rose thought.

"Could I see?" Rose asked.

He beamed. "Well... I've never shown it to anyone before," he said, but he handed the journal over and moved to look over her shoulder.

It was titled "Journal of Impossible Things". Rose smiled at the word "impossible". It seemed to define the Doctor insofar as he was always proving there was no such thing.

The journal was filled with the most exquisite drawings. She ran her fingers over the drawing of the TARDIS console, imagining she could almost feel the controls.

She turned a few more pages, filled with Daleks, Cybermen, and unfamiliar creatures, until she came to a drawing of herself.

"Ah," he stammered. "Yes, well, that's... that's how Rose, the Doctor's Rose, that's how she looks," he explained.

"How futuristic," she teased, taking in the straight, light hair (she assumed it was blonde, but it was difficult to tell in the ink drawing), and the made-up eyes. Rose had missed that face every time she had looked in a mirror over the past two months.

She continued on, marveling at page after page of the Doctor's adventures. She appeared quite often in them, she noticed. Some scenes she recognized, some she'd have to ask him about later. And it was all from the mind of John Smith. He'd been hiding this from her all this time?

* * *

John reveled in the look of delight on Rose's face as she looked through the journal. He couldn't believe he'd kept this side of himself a secret for so long. Not when it could make her smile like this.

She turned another page, and John spoke up. "Ah, that's the box, the blue box," he interjected, excitedly. "It's always there. Like a... like a magic carpet. This funny little box that transports me to faraway places."

She didn't laugh. Rose, in her life's mission to never cease in amazing him, only looked fondly at the drawing. "She's beautiful," Rose said.

John was suddenly certain he was falling in love.

Rose turned the page to the many faces of the Doctor. She briefly touched the drawing on the left hand page, the one with the short-cropped hair. John felt a thrill, and a sudden clarity in the recollection of his dreams. That was the only other version of the Doctor he remembered having adventures with Rose. How strange that she should seem to recognize -

"Which one's which?" Rose asked.

"Hmm?" he replied, coming out of his musings.

"Which one's the first?" she clarified, holding up the page to him. "I'm guessin' you're the latest face?" He nodded. "So, who's the oldest - or youngest, I guess?"

He marveled at her. "I'm not really sure," he explained.

He tried to talk through the vague attempts he had made at organizing the dreams.

"I sometimes think," he ventured, "how magical life would be if things like this were true."

"Yeah," Rose agreed.

"Still," he said, with a short, quiet laugh, "it's just a dream."

Rose smiled up at him. "But it's a part of you."

* * *

_To be continued._


	5. John, Doctor, John

_Happy birthday, dear starlight564, happy birthday to you!_

_Beta'd by **Anjirika**._

* * *

**Chapter 5 - John - Doctor - John**

If John had been another man, he would probably have kissed Rose right then and there.

As it was, he simply stood smiling at her for several heartbeats too long, until the class bell sounded.

Rose jumped, quickly handed the journal back to him, and began darting about the room. "I'm sorry," she said, throwing open the remaining curtains and shifting piles of books. "Lost track of the time," she apologized.

John bounced nervously on the balls of his feet, weighing the journal in his hand. He didn't want to let her go. This was the most personal he had gotten to be with her since she was a child, and he very much wanted it to continue. As Rose moved towards the door carrying a large stack of books, he grabbed his mortar board, stepped forward hurriedly, and opened the door for her. "Happens to me all the time," he laughed nervously.

Rose looked disbelievingly at him, and tried to step into the corridor.

"Rose," said John, stopping her with a hand on the book pile. "You.. you can keep this... if you like." He held out the journal for her.

She smiled at him, but then pointed her chin towards the books. "Hands're a little full just now, and someone's already cleared up the cart."

"Ah, yes," he said, then tucked the journal under his arm and took the books from her. "Here you are," he offered, turning to present his elbow to her.

She hesitantly slipped the journal out, then looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I've still gotta take those to the library," she told him.

John looked down, realizing he was now holding the entire stack of books. Since he was still reluctant to part from her, he offered, "I can carry them for you." He nodded for her to precede him down the hallway.

She stepped off slowly, asking, "Aren't you gonna be late for class?"

John shook his head. "It's Friday," he said. "I have first period free."

After a few more steps, she asked, "Sure I can't take some?"

"It's a fair division of labor," John insisted with a smile. "You're carrying the journal."

Rose shook her head, but he could tell she was smiling.

That had worked well, he thought.

They walked on down the hallway, John nodding absently to a fellow teacher - he had looked at him rather strangely, John thought. He was trying to phrase his thoughts appropriately, but he had never been very loquacious, let alone eloquent.

As they rounded a corner, John finally asked, "Rose?"

"Yeah?" Rose asked after what John realized had been several moments.

"Ah, yes, Rose," he continued. "How would it be... um... I don't know if you're available, or if you'd be interested... but I might be going into the village tomorrow... it's Saturday, you know, or it will be tomorrow, it's only Friday, today, of course..."

She had stopped and turned to face him, and John nearly ran into her. However, he maintained his hold on the stack of books, and continued his attempted speech.

"But I could, if you like, I could perhaps escort you into town... I could show you around... but you've been here just as long as I have, you could show me around, if you wanted to -"

"John," Rose cut in, "the stairs -"

"It - what about the stairs?" he asked. He hadn't been talking about stairs, had he? He turned to see what Rose was looking at.

"They're right behind you!" Rose warned, as John stepped sideways into mid air.

As the world tumbled around him, John's only coherent thought was of how strange it was that before he had even a chance to assess his own condition, Rose was calling for a doctor.

* * *

Rose watched, biting her thumbnail, while the Matron began cleaning the cut on the back of John's head. Oh, how Rose wished she could just tease him about Time Lord reflexes while he fixed himself up in the med bay.

"No sign of a concussion. Any loss of consciousness?" the Matron asked.

"No, ma'am," Rose answered, straightening. "He was a little shaky climbin' back up the stairs, but he seemed better on the walk back to the room."

"He is sitting right here," John interjected, apparently feeling left out.

"Well, you shouldn't need stitches, Mr. Smith," the Matron told him. She prodded at the cut and he hissed. "Stop it," she told him, soaking a cloth in peroxide and applying it to his head. "I get boys causing less fuss than this."

"It hurts," he protested, glancing at Rose with a pout she was certain he would deny. "I can't fathom what a man must have been thinking to put a staircase right where anyone might be walking."

Rose could tell he was trying to make her smile. It worked. "Maybe that they'd be watchin' where they were goin'?" Rose asked. The Matron looked over at her, and Rose found herself adding yet another "sir".

The Matron finished, laying the cloth beside the water bowl, and closing her medical bag.

"Miss Tyler," John said, "I do believe I asked you a question, before my tumble."

Rose looked between John and the Matron's suddenly curious gaze. "I think you tried to, yes, sir," she said.

"And, have you an answer?" he asked.

Rose had hoped he might have forgotten, but apparently not.

The Doctor was asking her out on a date. But it wasn't the Doctor, and that made it even more strangely complicated. It was John Smith: school teacher, and, apparently, prospective suitor.

Well, Rose thought, she was supposed to be staying close to him, right? Maybe it wouldn't do any harm. In this era, they'd need to be married a year and have a signed note from both parents before they could even snog. She ought to just enjoy the attention.

And they were going to be gone in only a few weeks; didn't courtships last forever in this period?

Or were they ridiculously short? She realized she didn't actually know.

Deciding to just go for it, but trying to keep her response vague for the Matron's sake, she said, "I'll see if I can."

John seemed determined to make sure the Matron was not left in the dark. That, or he was just his usual, oblivious self. "You'll come to the village with me tomorrow?" he clarified.

"Yes, if my duties allow, sir," Rose answered, looking away from the Matron's startled expression.

John's smile was infectious, but the Matron soon called Rose back to herself. "We'll leave you to rest, Mr. Smith," she said to John, indicating that Rose should do just that.

"Yes, thank you, Matron," John told her, moving to stand.

The Matron stopped him with a raised hand. "Rest," she said firmly.

Rose picked up the water bowl and the washcloths, and with a quick smile at John, followed the Matron out of the room.

A few paces down the hall, the Matron turned to Rose, stopping her. "Rose," she began, "I can't help but notice how familiar you are with Mr. Smith. And an afternoon in the village..." she let the sentence hang, allowing Rose to draw her own conclusions.

"Well, my Mum used to work for the family... I sort of grew up with him," Rose answered, defensively.

"Well, I'd be careful," the Matron warned. "If you don't mind my saying, it's rather obvious he's infatuated with you. You'd best be remembering both your positions," she said with a note of finality.

"Yes, ma'am," Rose replied, automatically.

The Matron nodded her head, and went on her way.

Rose had no intention of causing a scandal. However, she knew that if it came down to a choice, she cared a great deal more about sticking close to the once and future Doctor than about maintaining propriety.

* * *

At lunch, Rose asked Jenny if they could swap "dinner lady" shifts for lunch on Saturday. When Jenny found out why she was asking, she was delighted. Rose had to shush her to keep the whole school from hearing how "sweet he's always been" on Rose, and how Jenny wouldn't have been a bit surprised, if she'd ever thought it was possible for a maid and a school teacher to begin with.

When Rose brought tea that afternoon, John immediately stood and remained standing the whole time she was in the room. He was wearing the goofiest grin she could remember seeing on him when she told him she'd be able to go tomorrow. He had a class in the morning, but they agreed to meet at ten o'clock.

* * *

On Saturday morning, Rose finished her shift in the kitchens, then got changed to meet John. She still had some time, so she decided to take a walk to clear her head.

She was going on a date with the Doctor.

He'd taken her to all sorts of times and places on what might - to all outward appearances - be considered dates. But then, he had been in his right mind. She wanted to believe a part of the Doctor was still in there, as the journal implied, but John's earnestness left her feeling like she was betraying him by hoping he was another man.

And then, there were the Doctor's own words, "This watch is me." What if all this was just wishful thinking, and John was just a convincing... image, or echo of the Doctor?

Rose found John overseeing a gun drill on the school grounds. Yet another reason to doubt if he could possibly be her Doctor. She would have walked back to her room to wait, but just then the class broke up. The boys went off in one direction, the headmaster in another, and John turned back towards the school and caught sight of Rose.

"Good Morning!" he called, jogging over to meet her. "Ready to go then, is it ten already?" he asked.

"No, I'm early," she told him, looking out at the firing line and the straw dummies down range.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Rose realized her distraction must have shown on her face. She shook her head, reminding herself that John Smith is a fiction. "Just, when you were younger, at home, right? You didn't wanna have anythin' to do with guns, and now..."

John opened his mouth, but didn't seem to have anything to say.

"Sorry," Rose told him, "'s not your fault." It was the Doctor's fault, but same person or not, John couldn't very well be held accountable. "I'll meet you at the gate?"

* * *

It was strange, Rose thought, walking with the Doctor without holding his hand. There were no suitcases to distract her this time from the respectful distance John was maintaining between the two of them.

The village hall was advertizing a dance for next Saturday. John read the sign, and asked whether Rose danced. She recalled a couple of conversations with the Doctor on the subject, but realizing the reference would be lost on John she simply said yes, and asked if he did.

He said he didn't really know, and left it at that.

They got a quick bite to eat for lunch, still not talking about anything very significant. Rose thought he might be nervous, but John seemed more preoccupied than anything else.

After lunch, it wasn't too long before he finally steered the conversation back to that morning's gun drill. "Don't you think the discipline is good for them?" he asked Rose.

So, that was what had been distracting him. She was surprised the incident had made such an impression, but thinking about it, it made sense. Maybe he was comparing himself to the Doctor, just like she was. "Discipline's one thing," she said, "but, well, it's like this. Sometimes you need a weapon, and nothin' against soldiers if you _need_ to fight, but... well, what about the Doctor, like in your journal?" She asked. "You've had to fight, but you always look at the options, keepin' the violence and destruction as a last resort."

"_I_ do?" he asked.

"The Doctor," Rose corrected, realizing her mistake. "You know what I mean," she laughed, catching the teasing glint in his eye.

"Yes, well... Great Britain's at peace, long may it reign," he said, returning to the point of the conversation. "And I'll admit mankind doesn't need warfare and bloodshed to prove itself; everyday life can provide honor and valor and... let's hope that from now on this, this country can... can find its heroes in smaller places..."

He trailed off, apparently watching the foot traffic in the square ahead of them. Some men were hoisting a piano, while the pedestrians passed by with hardly a glance. Rose couldn't see what was so fascinating about the scene, but John seemed entranced.

"In the most... ordinary... of deeds!"

With the last words, he suddenly burst into action, snatching a cricket ball from a nearby boy and pitching it into a stand of scaffolding, causing the poles to fall into the street. "John -" Rose began, about to ask what he thought he was doing, but suddenly the rope holding the piano snapped.

Rose couldn't keep track of the series of events over the next few seconds, but by the time everything had stilled, the piano was in splinters, and a woman walking her baby in a perambulator had been stopped mere feet from the scene by an overturned milk churn.

"Lucky," John spoke quietly at her side.

He was gaping at his own handiwork, as was she. "That wasn't luck," she told him, amazed. "That was... impossible!"

So much for item number ten on his list, Rose thought.

He turned towards her, the Doctor shining through as the excitement over what he had just done came bursting out. "Rose Tyler, might I invite you to the village dance next weekend? As my guest?" he asked.

She didn't really pay attention to his request. When he said her name like that, she reached for his hand. "Better idea," she said, and ran.

* * *

"That was -" he panted, as they slowed to a walk outside of the village, "that was ridiculous!" Rose just laughed. "It's been years, literally years, since I've run like that."

He continued to hold her hand as they walked, and Rose felt like the world was getting just a little bit closer to how it should be.

As they passed a field, John brought them up short. "That scarecrow's all skewed," he said, and proceeded to correct it.

Rose laughed as he stood back to admire his own work. "A work of art," Rose complimented him. "You ever try sculptin'?" she asked.

He came back to her, offering his arm. "I don't really know," he said, looking at her intently, "but I think I would rather like to work on my drawing."

* * *

Rose felt like she was being snuck into a boys' dormitory when John brought her back to the school and up to his rooms. He wasn't trying to hide her, but she almost felt like he should be. He was a teacher, she was a maid. Tonight she was going to be cooking and cleaning again, just an ordinary, undercover serving girl.

John was quite eager to begin his drawing when they arrived. He seated Rose, found a blank notebook, had to search in three cupboards for the right pen and ink, but then set to work in earnest.

Rose found it strange to so still for so long while in his company. More than that, he hadn't uttered a single word while he worked, unless it was to ask her to get back into her original pose.

With a last brush of his thumb against the paper, John sat back from his work. He looked at Rose with a shy smile. She grinned, eager to see the drawing.

He came to sit beside her, and handed her the notebook. "That can't be me," she said, amazed. She knew it was, it had to be, but... it was so different from the pictures he had drawn from his dreams. It was the stranger's face she had been putting up with for two and a half months, but somehow made familiar.

"I draw what I see," he said, gently, "whether in my dreams, or right before me."

He softly brushed a stray hair behind her ear, and Rose caught her breath. How many times had the Doctor done that? But John was so tentative about it, it sent a thrill through her. Just the fact that he thought he was being bold, taking liberties, it was electrifying.

And he was going to kiss her.

"John," Rose said quietly, without trying to distance herself, "people... is this... maybe we shouldn't," it was suddenly difficult to form a coherent thought, with the way he was looking at her, brushing his fingers along her neck. She closed her eyes for a moment. This wasn't the Doctor, but it was... "The Matron said we should be careful," she admitted.

"I've heard similar advice," he said, then gave her a small, nervous smile. "But if you don't mind..." he leaned in close enough to speak the next words over her lips, "I have no intention of heeding it."

His lips met hers with a hesitant familiarity. After a breathless moment, he pulled back, but still close enough for Rose to feel his words.

"I... I've never..."

"You would say that," she whispered, but gently caught the back of his neck and pulled him into another kiss before he could think to comment.

Before she could think herself out of it.

There was no further hesitation on his part. His free hand ghosted over her hip, then settled on her waist, urging her closer.

The bench seat was almost as awkward as the captain's chair, Rose thought - just before his tongue brushed across her lower lip, and she found that thinking was way too much work.

So much for needing a note...

He broke away, taking a quick, desperate breath, before briefly reclaiming her lips. But Rose needed air, too, and had to pull back.

He simply took the opportunity to dip his mouth to her throat.

In a very small, teensy, tiny corner of her mind, Rose knew that somehow this probably wasn't a good idea... for some reason. But he was making it really... very... "Ah," difficult to think. "Oh..."

His lips met hers, hungrily, and her fingers combed through his hair, scraping along his scalp.

He let slip a small moan, then worked his way to her ear. "Rose," he whispered, between open-mouthed kisses, "what you do to me... my Rose."

"My Doctor," she sighed, completely given up to the moment.

John stilled against her, and she realized her mistake with a start. She could feel his confusion, but he didn't pull back right away. Instead, he held her, catching his breath. "That makes three," he said, at last. He did draw back from her then, but rested their foreheads together.

"Whaddya mean?" Rose asked, avoiding his eyes, fully aware of what she had done and why he had stopped - and, oh, how she wished she had kept her mouth shut.

"That's the third time you've confused me with my fiction," he said.

"Really?" said Rose, trying for casual and risking a glance at him.

He smiled, and gave a small nod. "In the village earlier, and when I fell on the stairs. You shouted, 'Doctor'." Rose felt herself blush. "I thought at first you were calling for a physician."

"I guess," Rose evaded, "I've got an overactive imagination?"

He laughed gently, and cradled her face in his hands, kissing her softly. "You know," he said, "I think I've loved you from 'run'."

It was Rose's turn to be confused "What?" she asked, stunned. Of course, he could be talking about their little jog earlier...

He laughed again. "I wouldn't expect you to remember," he said. He sat back on the bench, holding her hand. "You must have been, what, seven?"

Okay, Rose thought, relaxing slightly. Just another invention. But still, when he had said it, her heart had leapt...

"I came home, and found you on the front porch," he went on. "You were terrified. Not of me, there was a broken... _something_, I can't even remember what it was." He stared off into space, as if trying to recall the event.

Rose wondered if the "memory" was really there, or if he was just making it up as he went along.

"But instead of turning you in to my Dad - or worse, your Mum - I just took your hand and helped you escape. 'Run,' was all I said, and we did. All the way to the Arboretum." He looked at her, smiling. "We walked for hours, 'til the waxing moon had risen, and the first stars appeared. You wanted to know all their names."

"Did you tell them to me?" she asked, playing along.

"Every one we could see," he said, squeezing her hand, "until you started to get cold. You were still afraid to go home, but it worked out alright. Your Mum was just glad to know you were safe."

"Sounds like her," she said with a grin.

A bell sounded, and Rose realized that it was almost time to get ready for dinner.

"I've gotta go," she said, standing.

John stood with her, still holding her hand, keeping her from gathering up her things. "Rose, the dance," he said. "Will you go with me?"

She tried to think of why she shouldn't. "Yeah, I'd love to," she said. He grinned, and kissed her. "But I should go," Rose told him, pulling away with a smile before things had a chance to get out of hand again. "My turn to help in the kitchens this weekend," she said, picking up her coat. "Jenny took over for me at lunch, but I've gotta get goin'."

John followed her to the door. "I'll see you..."

"Later," she said, and gave him one last, lingering kiss before resolutely heading for the door.

He held it open for her. "I can't wait."

* * *

_To be continued._


	6. Proposition

_Heavily influenced by - but somewhat completely different from - **Luna Lovegood5**'s "Once Upon a Time"._

___Beta'd by **Anjirika** and **maven13**._

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 6 - Proposition**

Somehow, they made it through the following week. Rose had thought the kiss - kisses - might make things awkward, but that wasn't the case. Maybe it was the maid's uniform, but John was perfectly professional whenever he passed Rose in the corridors, or when she came by his room on her duties. He wasn't cold, but he remained at a respectful distance, even while smiling at her and telling her how wonderful it was to see her.

She almost wished he wouldn't be so professional, but then remembered she wasn't supposed to be encouraging him. Not too much, anyway.

* * *

Jenny, for her part, wanted every single juicy little detail of Rose's afternoon with Mr. Smith. And when she learned that Rose would be going to the dance with him that weekend, Jenny took to calling her "Cinderella" - only in private, and all in good fun.

"You're proof there's hope for us domestics, yet," she said.

And while Rose doubted her new friend would have taken "no" for an answer, Rose did promise that Jenny could help her get ready for the dance on Saturday.

* * *

There was one rather awkward evening when Rose and Jenny were heading into the village together in the middle of the week. John and two other teachers were leaving the school at the same time, and John offered to escort the ladies. The other teachers politely agreed, but the group soon arranged themselves into a strange sort of formation: John and Rose preceded by the other men, and followed by Jenny.

The men carried on their conversation, oblivious to the girls, and John followed suit, looking horribly embarrassed every time he spoke to them. Neither of the girls spoke up uninvited, but Jenny kept grinning at Rose whenever she caught her eye.

When they reached the village, and John realized the girls were not invited into the pub, his embarrassment increased. But with a warm, "Good evenin' Mr. Smith," Rose tried to tell him it was alright.

"Good evening, ladies," John told them, looking desperately apologetic. He didn't actually leave until one of the teachers called out to him from the door to the pub. Then he shook himself and hurried inside.

Jenny "tsked" beside Rose, shaking her head as they watched John disappear into the pub. "Completely besotted, that one," she said, with a smirk.

Rose rolled her eyes, but couldn't exactly deny it. It was so sweetly obvious.

Jenny turned towards Rose. "An' yer not much better, Cindy," she added, laughing.

Rose was about to retort to the Cinderella reference, when a bright, green light streaked overhead in the night sky. With a sudden dread in the pit of her stomach, she asked, "You see that?"

Jenny was staring off at the horizon where the light had disappeared. "What was it, d'ya think?" she asked.

Rose knew just what she thought it was, but she was praying she was wrong. Still, best to make sure, she thought. "Where is that, over there?" she asked Jenny.

"Cooper's field," Jenny told her, and Rose headed off into the woods. "You can't just run off!" Jenny called after her, but Rose had to see for herself. She had to make sure it wasn't the Family. Not with only two weeks to go.

Fortunately, when they arrived, Cooper's field was decidedly vacant.

"Must'a been just a shootin' star," Jenny guessed, panting to catch her breath.

"Yeah," Rose agreed, but her eyes kept searching the sky as they walked back to the school.

* * *

By Saturday evening, Rose had mostly forgotten about the meteor. She had mentioned it when she had visited the TARDIS, but the ship made no reply she could discern. Whether that was because the TARDIS didn't find anything wrong, or simply because the ship was in low power mode, Rose wasn't sure.

And tonight, Jenny wouldn't let her worry about anything other than getting ready for the dance.

"Where did you get this?" Jenny asked in awe, fingering the layers of delicate fabric as Rose held her dress up to herself.

Rose had wondered why the TARDIS had bothered with the fancy dress in her suitcase, when everything else was plain, simple, and befitting a servant. Strangely enough, she now had a use for it. "It was a goin' away present, from John's family," Rose invented.

"That must be some family," Jenny said, ending her inspection of the dress to retrieve a hairbrush. She gestured Rose into a chair. "Think they were plannin' on you joinin' them, back when you first left?"

"Joinin'?" Rose asked, not entirely following.

"Well," Jenny said, as if it were obvious, "you don't think it'll be too much longer 'fore he asks, do ya?"

"It better be," Rose said before she could stop herself. She didn't know what she'd do if John went and did something like that. And it would be her own fault, too, going along with this whole dating and dancing thing. She shook herself and tried to explain. "We're just good friends," she said. "We're gonna be leavin' soon, like I said, and this whole teacher-servant thing'll be history."

"He doesn't act like he's plannin' on leavin'," Jenny told her.

"He doesn't exactly know, yet," Rose said. She chewed her lip, trying to think of how to put it. "It's like, he's got an early inheritance comin' to him, but it's a surprise," she said, twisting around in her chair. "The schoolteacher's just an act. What he really wants to do is travel... anywhere, and help everyone. And I'm goin' with him, and I really wish you would, too."

"I don't want anyone supportin' me," Jenny said, shaking her head as she pressed Rose back down into the chair so that she could brush out her hair. "At least here I'm earnin' my keep."

Rose obediently sat still. "But it's not like that," she insisted. "It's more like sharin'. And there's plenty of chances to 'earn your keep', just by tryin' to keep him alive."

Jenny laughed, setting the brush on her bed and twisting Rose's hair up. "You do say the craziest things sometimes," she told her. "Keepin' him alive? What's he plannin' to do out there in the world, then?"

Rose wanted to tell her everything, but knew she had to wait. When the Doctor was back to normal and the TARDIS was back to normal, then she could just show her. "Well, y'know," Rose said, "even just here in the school, it's more than I can do to keep him from fallin' down the stairs."

* * *

John flipped back through the new journal, past drawing after drawing of Rose. Some were of her alone, some included him, or even their children. He came to the first page, the drawing he had done of her last weekend. His dreams were still filled with her as the Doctor's golden companion, but the Rose on the page before him was the woman he wanted to dream about. He turned the page over, to the very beginning of the book and wrote in a title: "Journal of Possibilities".

He put the book away, then stood nervously before the mirror, adjusting his tie, brushing his hair, fixing his collar. He had happily told the other faculty that he was going to the village dance, yes, with Rose. Some had said nothing, others had told him quite seriously that it was a bad idea. But he couldn't explain why he was so certain it was right. He knew in his head that their respective stations should make them incompatible.

But he just didn't care.

He was now certain that he would love Rose no matter what her station. She could be Dame Rose of the Powell Estate, or a shop girl - that is, a, a, servant girl. And whatever is Powell Estate? But, regardless, he had loved her when she was a child, and he loved her now. Where he knew he should see a servant, he only saw the strong, beautiful woman she had become.

He moved to his wardrobe and reached into the breast pocket of his traveling suit, retrieving the small object that lay within. And, he thought, if all went according to plan, he would very soon be removing her from her current station altogether.

* * *

Rose twirled while Jenny applauded. "Definitely Cinderella," Jenny told her.

"Thanks, Fairy Godmother," Rose replied with a curtsy, when a knock sounded at the door. "Just a minute!" Rose yelled, as she and Jenny hurriedly straightened up the room. "You sure you don't wanna come?" Rose asked Jenny.

"Naw," Jenny said, grabbing her coat. "I'm sure you'll get away with it, but they'd never let me in, 'specially without an escort. Old Mrs. Wilbur's on the other side of the woods. She could use a visit."

When all was ready, Jenny opened the door. As expected, John was standing there. "Good evening Miss, a, Miss Jenny, isn't it?" he greeted, hesitantly.

"Good evenin', Mr. Smith," Jenny replied with a nod, then stood aside to let him in the room. She slipped out behind him, and sent a wink towards Rose before she closed the door.

"Good evening, Rose," John said, stepping towards Rose once they were alone.

"John," she replied, delighting in his taking in her appearance.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he said, reaching for her hands.

"Not bad yourself," she told him, appreciatively.

She somehow managed to keep the 'for a human' comment to herself. He really wouldn't get it, no matter how completely appropriate it might be. She wondered, briefly, what the Doctor would think of the situation. Thinking of the Doctor made Rose really look at John, and she couldn't help but notice he seemed a little odd.

He was squeezing her hands in little twitchy motions, as if he wanted to do or say something but wasn't sure how to go about it. "You okay?" Rose asked.

He started, and Rose fought not to laugh. "I'm fine, thank you. Yes. Um," he looked around the room, as if searching for inspiration. Then, he seemed to abandon whatever it was going to say, and picked up her coat, instead. "Perhaps we should go, then?" he asked, holding the garment up for her. She slid into it, and he moved quickly to get the door, gentlemanly ushering her out ahead of him.

* * *

As they walked, Rose could almost imagine she was with the Doctor on their way to some fancy alien ball. She was playing dress-up in a period dress, and he was in his suit - albeit distinctly lacking in pinstripes. But while she held John's arm, he walked almost stiffly beside her. No hands in his trouser pockets, no leaning into her with the flow of his historical discourse like she was used to with the Doctor. And the look on his face... it was like... delighted infatuation. Not... whatever it was she saw when the Doctor looked at her.

John made small talk as they went, telling Rose little things that had happened that week with the students, or commenting on the beautifully clear evening. All the while, Rose was under the impression that he really wanted to say something completely different.

Her suspicion was confirmed, when John drew them to a halt. They had just reached a clearing on the outskirts of the village. The stars were shining clearly, but they were still sheltered from the wind by the surrounding forest. John carefully removed Rose's arm from his own, and turned towards her, taking her hands.

"Rose, before we go to the hall," John took a deep breath and shook his head. "Before I let another heartbeat pass," he corrected himself, looking her in the eyes. "I want... could you...," he dropped his gaze, gripping her hands hard.

Something was definitely wrong here, Rose thought. But what? "John, what's the matter?" she asked.

Still not looking at her, he lowered himself to one knee. Rose's mind flashed back to his apology. She was hoping this was just more dramatics, but she couldn't help the fear that something was really wrong. Was he about to pass out?

He finally looked up at her, and Rose was relieved to see how clear his eyes seemed. But then he reached inside his coat. She thought back to Jenny asking about John "asking", and she was suddenly anything but relieved.

* * *

Even as John touched the ring in his pocket, Rose pulled her hand away, stepped back, and turned to continue walking towards the hall. "C'mon, we're gonna be late," she said, not even looking at him.

"Rose," he laughed, springing to his feet just in time to catch her hand, "it can wait. I rather wanted to ask you something." When he turned her towards him, John was startled to see she looked sad, almost angry. "Rose?" he asked.

She chewed on her lip, giving him no response.

Well, at least she was standing still, he thought. John held her hands, and dropped back down on his knee. This seemed to worry Rose even more, but he didn't know what else to do. "I wanted to ask," he began, letting only one of her hands go so that he could retrieve the ring. "I wanted to know if you, Rose Tyler," he held up the ring to her, "would consider," he cleared his throat, "if you would possibly do me the honor of..."

She had closed her eyes when he had said her name, but she opened them now, looking down at the ring with a sickly kind of apprehension.

John couldn't imagine what had affected her so, but he forced the words out, hoping that everything would be alright again once she heard them. "Rose, marry me. Please."

After what seemed like an interminable pause, she whispered, "Two weeks," then shook her head. "You couldn't wait two..." she trailed off, looking around at the village.

John did not understand. "No," he said, "I couldn't wait, not any longer." He didn't know what two weeks had to do with anything, but he wasn't about to wait even two more hours to tell her how he really felt. "I love you, Rose," he said, and she closed her eyes again. "I have ever since I've known you. But it's only now, since we've been here, that I've had some hope of you possibly returning my affections. And... and... Rose? What's wrong? Please."

He could see tears in her eyes, as she looked up at the starry sky. What he would give to know what was in her mind, let alone have her answer. "I can't," she said, then looked down at him. "I'm sorry, John, I know it's my fault, but I just can't." She gently pushed the ring away with her free hand.

John closed his fist around the ring, still kneeling in place before her. She can't. Her words resounded in his head. "Why?" he asked. "What's happened? Since last week... Rose, you know how I feel. And I thought you..." a terrible thought occurred to him, then. "Is there someone else?" he asked.

Rose laughed humorlessly, squeezing his hand as she shook her head. "No," she said. Then, more quietly, "That's the problem."

John realized the fading adrenaline was giving way to anger. He climbed to his feet. "I'm not enough?" he asked, harshly. "You were just, what? Passing the time with me? Waiting for someone else who could elevate you to a higher station?"

"What? No -" she denied, taking a step back, her eyes wide in surprise at his accusation. Then she looked away, John thought almost guiltily. "I just didn't expect..."

John fought to regain his calm. He didn't want to frighten her, but he couldn't understand her refusal. "Rose, you can't have misunderstood my intentions. Last week -"

"John, please," she interrupted, her voice thick.

He closed his mouth tightly, praying she would enlighten him. She wasn't unaffected, but he couldn't guess at her motives.

"I just..." she closed her eyes as the tears slipped down her cheeks. Instinctively, John reached up to brush them away. She held his hand - still gripping the ring - to her face, then looked at him. "Ask me again in two weeks?"

"What could two weeks...?" he began.

"Please," she whispered. "Two weeks. That's all I'm askin'. You can do that, can'tcha?"

"Rose, I'll love you for the rest of my life," he told her, releasing her hand to frame her face. "Two weeks won't change anything," he told her, making sure she could see his sincerity. "If you're not refusing me, then why... is this too sudden?" he asked, brushing her tears with his thumb. "You... you need time? Time to think?"

"Time," Rose repeated, then nodded, holding his forearms. "Please," she said. "John, please. Trust me." Then, to ensure he was the most bewildered man on the face of the earth, she suggested, "Let's just go to the dance, alright?"

He blinked at her, utterly unable to follow her shift in conversation. He shook his head, then dropped his hands. He uncurled his fingers to look at the ring. "In two weeks," he asked, "will your answer be 'yes'?"

He raised his eyes to hers, and could not comprehend the mix of emotions they seemed to hold. "If you ask," she whispered, "yeah."

His heart clenched. "How can you doubt me?" he asked, just as quietly.

He wondered what he could have done, what he could do.

He closed the distance between them, and kissed her.

* * *

Rose felt horrible, even as she responded reflexively to John's kiss.

He'd accused her, and she'd denied it, even though she was technically guilty. She was just passing the time with him, waiting for someone else.

But that someone else _was_ him.

She didn't know what she could say, aside from asking for time. Just a little more time.

A week and a half, even, and she'd have the Doctor back. He could come out of hiding, and they could put this all behind them.

Because her Doctor would never, never, never be down on his knee, asking for something as human as a wedding. Not to someone as human as her. Whether he loved her or not...

Approaching footsteps caused them to break apart, suddenly. John still looked heartbroken.

"Two weeks," Rose repeated, quietly, then glanced behind him to see who was there. "Jenny?"

The girl looked awful. Rose wondered what had happened, why she was even in the village at all, instead of with Mrs. Wilbur.

* * *

John turned around when Rose nodded over his shoulder. It was Jenny.

"I need to talk to her," Rose said. "Could you go on ahead? Maybe get us some drinks?"

He looked back at Rose. There was nothing he could say, right now. She was telling him the conversation was over, at least for the moment. He found it hard to get his head around the fact that she still wanted to go dancing. But she hadn't said "no", she'd only said "two weeks", whatever that meant. "I will see you soon, then," he croaked out past the lump in his throat.

* * *

Timothy Latimer slipped quietly into the village hall through the back door. He could hardly fathom why he was listening to a talking watch, but he had followed Mr. Smith as he left the school with Miss Rose, just as instructed. He skirted the edge of the hall, until he found an empty, out of the way table. He looked cautiously around as he sat, hoping he would go unnoticed. It seemed most people were preoccupied with the dance - except for Lucy Cartwright. She was sitting two tables away with a red balloon and no sign of her parents. Tim didn't understand why he was so glad she didn't notice him, but the watch kept repeating, "Hide me. Hide me."

It wasn't long before Tim saw Mr. Smith, himself, enter the hall. His mind was filled with more confusing images from the watch, just at the sight of him, and he shrank back in his chair.

Mr. Smith had divested himself of his coat, and was standing by the refreshments table with two mugs. Tim hadn't seen Miss Rose, and it seemed Mr. Smith was looking for her.

Suddenly, she entered. Rose slammed the hall doors closed behind her, and ran to Mr. Smith as soon as she found him. She dragged him by the elbow, right to the back of the hall, and seated him at the table between Tim and Lucy.

"I'm sorry, John," she said, quickly, "this is gonna sound really crazy, but we've got to get back to the school and find your watch."

Tim sat up straighter, wondering if he should give them the watch and be rid of it. But the watch kept saying, "Hide me."

Mr. Smith made no reply for a full three seconds, and then asked, "What?"

Rose sighed, hanging her head. "The Family, they're here," she told him. Images from the watch swirled in Tim's mind, horrible screaming, lizard-like faces, green fire. "You wrote about 'em, in your journal, remember?" Rose went on.

"My - what?" Mr. Smith asked. "My journal?"

Rose sat down next to him, gripping his hands. "John, that journal's true. Everything in it's real. You. Are. The Doctor."

Tim tried to disappear in his seat. At the mention of "the Doctor" even more frightening images of Mr. Smith surfaced.

Mr. Smith shook his head, and freeing his hands from hers, held Rose's face. "Rose, that's just an invention. Dreams, that's all." She brushed his hands away. "What on earth's come over you?" he asked. "Outside, and now this?"

"You're the invention, John," Rose told him, forcefully. "The Doctor had to hide - from the Family that's here, right now - so he put himself in that fob watch of yours and became human." Tim gripped the watch tightly beneath the table where he sat. "You wrote about it," Rose continued. "You've got to remember, even a little bit. We need to go back to the school and find it and bring the Doctor back, 'cause they've found us." She was shaking by the time she added, "They've got Jenny. They took her over, just like on Villengard."

No sooner had she said this, than the front doors to the hall burst open. Tim recognized the maid, Jenny, and his classmate, Jeremy Baines, and Mr. Clark from Oakham Farm.

Rose quickly gripped Mr. Smith's arm and said, "Just forget what I told you, yeah? Shut up and forget it."

* * *

Rose sat close to John, partially blocking his view of the new arrivals in the hall. His mind reeled at what she had told him. How could she seriously believe what she had said? He knew she had an active imagination, and was open to new possibilities, but to actually believe that he was the Doctor -

An explosive blast rang through the room, and he jumped in his seat.

"We asked for silence!" Jeremy Baines announced. John could see him along with Jenny and Mr. Clarke, all holding strange, green firearms. "Now then," Baines continued, "we have a few questions for Mr. Smith."

John's mouth dropped open, but before he could consider a reply, a little girl at the next table over said, "No, better than that." She slid from her chair and walked calmly up to the trio. "The Time Lord is playing a trick; he's hidden in a watch," she said. "I heard them talking. The teacher, he is the Doctor."

John climbed unsteadily to his feet, motioning for Rose to stay out of the way as he faced his accusers. The insanity was apparently contagious.

Baines smiled sweetly, condescendingly at him. "You took human form," he concluded.

"Of course I'm human, I was born human!" John replied, hotly. "As were you, Baines, and Jenny, and you, Mr. Clarke! What is going on? This is madness!" What was happening to the universe around him? First Rose, and now this?

"And a human brain, too!" Baines laughed. "Simple, thick, and dull."

"He's no good like this," Jenny complained.

"We need a Time Lord," Mr. Clarke put in. John was astounded. How did they know that phrase? Was this all some elaborate play acting? But that would mean that Rose... she wouldn't betray him like that. She couldn't.

"Easily done," Baines told them, then stepped towards John and raised his gun. John stepped back instinctively, knocking his chair over in the process. No, he didn't think this was an act. "Change back," Baines ordered.

John was utterly at a loss. "I don't know what you're talking about," he told him.

"Change back!" Baines shouted, petulantly.

"I literally," John shouted right back, "Do. Not. Know -"

Rose screamed, "Get off me!" as Jenny stepped forward suddenly and hauled her to her feet.

John moved toward them, but Jenny quickly put her gun to Rose's head.

"She's your sweetheart, isn't she?" Jenny taunted him. "Doesn't this scare you enough to change back?"

"I don't know what you mean!" John told her desperately. He would change into whatever they wanted, if he could, if it would save Rose. But he didn't know -

"This body has traces of memory," Jenny continued "The maid, Jenny, expected he was about to propose to this one." She shook Rose roughly by the arm as she spoke.

Baines laughed, even as he continued pointing his gun at John. "Have you enjoyed it, Doctor?" he asked. "Being human? Has it taught you wonderful things, are you better, richer, wiser? Then I have a little proposition for you. Change back, or the girl dies." John looked into Rose's eyes, hoping to find some kind of answer. "Your choice."

* * *

_To be continued. . . in "03 09AU The Family of Blood"._


End file.
